That Kiss
by Wyndes
Summary: First person, from Zane's POV.  Yeah, I know, weird.  And if I could tag it correctly, the tag would be Sex, Sex, Sex/Hopelessly Romantic.
1. Chapter 1: The Kiss

The incredibly hot Jo Lupo had a secret.

She also had my grandmother's engagement ring…and that was just plain weird.

And I'd kissed her, and that was even weirder.

I won't be shy about this – I kiss a lot of women. Whatever, it's pretty much the easiest way to figure out if I'm going to get any. A fast slap and I'm gone for good. And yeah, my cheek's been bruised once or twice. But most often, I can tell right then if a date or two is worthwhile. Grab the girl, pull her toward you – either she kisses you back or she doesn't.

Lupo kissed me back.

Yeah, it was random. And pretty damn unexpected.

I'd made the average casual pass at the Enforcer off and on for months. Well, why not? Hot is pretty much an understatement: Lupo's got legs that go on forever, a killer ass, perfect handful breasts and a mouth that – well, let's just say that the thought of those full lips wrapped around intimate parts of a male anatomy would keep any red-blooded guy awake for hours.

But the casual passes went nowhere. My "Anytime you want, Lupo," got nothing more than a glare and an eye roll, and I didn't expect more. Lupo was as uptight as girls got. Yeah, yeah, women. Whatever.

Which is not to say that I didn't like her. I mean apart from the hot – did I mention how hot she was? – there were moments when she actually seemed like a pretty decent human being.

Okay, way too law-abiding. Like, laws were made to be broken, babe. But apart from that…well, let's just say that every once in a while, I got a feeling about her. Like maybe we could be friends.

In some alternate universe, that is.

'Cause in this one, we were natural enemies.

Except…then I kissed her. And that…yeah, that was just damn weird. Like I said, I kiss a lot of women. A kiss is no big deal. But that kiss?

It was wrong. On so many levels.

A first kiss? There's a pause. There's a moment, maybe one second, maybe three, maybe five, where you're figuring each other out. It's kinda awkward, kinda stiff. You don't know where your hands go, you don't know how far you should push, what the right moves are.

With Jo, there was no pause.

I kissed her and it was like falling.

Like gravity had just taken over and dropped me into a universe where the natural laws were about kissing Jo Lupo, that this touch was right and that touch wasn't, that a hand around her waist would lead to the light tingle of her fingers stroking my cheek, that the touch of our tongues would be almost explosive, that the air would practically evaporate from the room until I could barely catch my breath.

And then she pulled away.

And that – yeah, there was just no way that was right.

I don't remember what I said. To be honest, I think I was kind of pissed. I mean I'd already figured out that there was a secret. Well, the ring kind of gave it away.

That and Andy's comment – what had he said, exactly? Oh, right, that given Grant's "unique circumstances" his file would be stored in the town archives. Now what the hell did that mean? I didn't know.

But I was damn sure going to find out.


	2. Chapter 2: One Month Later

_A/N First, the usual disclaimer – this is not my world, not my characters, and I'm just playing in it. Second, another disclaimer – this also isn't my usual version of this world or my usual voice and I really, really hope you noticed that T changing to an M on the rating! To the best of my ability to judge (I have no outline and no plan for where I'm going), there will be nothing episode-ish about this story. It's pure relationship, no plot. And apparently my version of Zane swears. A lot. If you object to bad language, stop reading! _

_Also, if I could tag it properly, the story would be tagged Sex, Sex, SEX (and why isn't that a tag, I wonder?) If you're easily shocked, please don't read! If you're less easily shocked, please review – I've never written anything like this before and I'm not sure how I feel about it…_

* * *

_One month later_

The incredibly hot Jo Lupo was asleep in my bed.

I'm not going to say I was unhappy about that. I'm not crazy. But my feelings were a lot more mixed than I would have expected if you'd told me a month ago that I'd be in this position.

It was the first time. Not the first time we'd – well, euphemistically, slept together– but the first time Jo had actually fallen asleep, instead of scrambling back into her clothes and getting out of my space like a bat out of hell.

Of course, that hadn't happened the very first time. That time, we weren't at my place – we were at hers, and that had ended when she told me to get out.

That sounds worse than it was, though. It hadn't really been…well, maybe I just should start at the beginning.

So about two days after that scene in the jail, Jo moved into her new house and that night, I stopped by. _Not_ to confront her. I'd figured out some stuff pretty quickly once I got into the archives. I hadn't been able to get to the records – they'd all been checked out - but all I had to do was look at the list of what other people had looked at recently, and put two and two together.

To say it was interesting – well, understatement! It was killing me not to know how. I mean what they'd done, could, probably should, change the laws of physics. It was maybe the coolest thing in Eureka since the Big Bang experiment and they were keeping it a secret!

But, hey, not a super-genius for nothing.

If Henry and Fargo were keeping quiet about something that ought to be leading to Nobel prizes all around? My lips were sealed. I didn't know what the deal was, why it had to be some deep-dark mystery, but for Fargo to pass up a Nobel? Yeah, not stepping in that one.

But Jo – well, make a long story short, I stopped by her place. I'd been debating doing it for hours, so it was after dark, but her lights were still on, and finally I just figured the hell with it. It had to be done. When she answered the door, she glared at me, I put up a hand and just said, as quick as I could, "I told Zoe that I liked her, hoped we could be friends, but it wasn't ever going to be anything more."

I'd planned out that part, but I guess I'd expected her to say something. She didn't. She just stared at me, those gorgeous brown eyes wide, a look on her face that I couldn't read.

So I stepped a little closer and added, "Look, I don't – I wouldn't …"

Eh, I felt like an idiot, totally stumbling over my words. I'm usually a hell of a lot smoother. But I struggled on, "I know we aren't friends, but I wouldn't ever intentionally hurt you."

I don't know how I thought she'd respond to that, but apparently, I had found the magic words to get laid. Not that I'm going to be trying them on too many other women, because fuck, I'm not into complicated and this is hellish complicated.

But wow, at that moment? She reached up, wrapped one warm hand around the back of my neck, and pulled me down to her. And yeah, I wasn't worried about complicated.

Most of the time, she seems so tough and powerful, I kind of think of her as being a lot bigger than she is. But she's actually tiny, way smaller than me, and she was stretching to reach my mouth, and I was reaching for her, and it was just like the first time.

Not like _a_ first time, that is, but like the time in the sheriff's office, when – yeah, I'm not sure I can explain this.

Well, look. I like sex. Who doesn't? Anybody who says they don't care about sex is either lying or doing it wrong. But I don't get lost in it. I don't get stupid about it. There's a saying, "God gave men both a penis and a brain, but not enough blood supply to run both at the same time." Well, I haven't had that problem since I made it through puberty. I like sex, hell, love it. But I never stop thinking.

Except that night, yeah, my brain just fucking shut off. Within two minutes, I was inside Jo's house, door closed behind me, and we were pulling each other's clothes off. Within five minutes, I was inside Jo, and it was fast and furious and fucking unbelievable. I was so hard and she was so hot and fast wasn't nearly fast enough, and when I felt her contracting around me in those rhythmic pulses of a woman coming, I exploded and it was – yeah, intense.

Also, so, so stupid. I've got – well, I wouldn't call them scruples. But rules, let's say. I don't mess with girls who are drunk or on something, and I always take care of the protection myself. That's just basic sanity. That night? Yeah, not so much. Not that Jo was drunk – at least I don't think she was. But protection? Hell, it was over before the thought even crossed my mind.

Fifteen minutes after I'd knocked on the door, we were lying on the floor in her living room, breathless, covered in sweat, clothes scattered around us. Jo had her arm over her eyes and my brain was just starting to function again, when she said, voice tight, "Get out."

"Jo…" I started.

"Please!" She didn't move her arm, didn't look at me, but the word was almost a strangled scream.

I didn't argue. Well, what could I say? Had she even been fucking me, really? Or just some guy who looked a lot like someone she had loved and lost? I got out.

The next time I saw her, she wouldn't even look at me. So I figured that was the end of that and…well, that was okay. I mean, not okay, exactly, but…eh, it might have been what it felt like to try heroin or some equivalently crazy drug. An insane high, but then you know you should stay the fuck away.

So two weeks later, she showed up at my door. It was late at night, unexpected, and pretty much a replay. She didn't say a word, and we didn't make it to the couch, much less the bedroom. I opened the door, she walked in, turned to face me, and then she was pressing me against the wall, her hands inside my clothes in seconds, her cool fingers caressing and then tightening around me. I managed to get the condom out of my wallet and on me before thrusting inside her, but otherwise – well, something about Lupo freezes my brain. It lasted a little longer, but half an hour after she arrived, she was pulling her clothes back on and heading out the door.

Last week, same story. Only we made it to the couch, and after a relatively brief and extremely quiet intermission, we did it a second time. And the second time wasn't fast and furious, but slow and steady and even more unbelievable. Feeling her arching underneath me, hearing her soft, breathy moans, tasting the salt of her sweat and the sweet of her skin, breathing in her clean scent – I would have made it last forever if I could. But biology isn't that kind, and five minutes after we'd finished, she was zipping up her pants and pulling on her shoes.

This week, we made it to the bed.

Remember me mentioning my rules? Well, I've got another one that I don't usually share because women – yeah, it's a sure-fire way to piss them off and I don't need that kind of grief. But I consider that sex once is just physical, twice is just friendly, and three times – well, that's when I call it quits. Women start getting serious after the third time – something to do with oxytocin, I think – and I don't do serious.

Which begs the question of what the fuck I'm doing watching the incredibly hot Jo Lupo sleeping in my bed after the fourth – count them, fourth – time we'd been together?

I'd asked her a question before she fell asleep and she'd ignored it. I wanted the answer. I needed the answer. But damn if I knew how to make her give it.

With a sigh, I rolled out of bed. Her clothes were scattered across my floor – yeah, we'd made it into the bedroom – and almost idly, I scooped them up to toss them onto the chair.

Her handcuffs fell out of the pocket of her pants.

Huh.

Now that was an idea.

_A/N: Yes, I'm shocking myself. I don't know where this story is coming from! But also, yes, there will be light bondage in the next chapter. If you don't like that, don't read! _


	3. Chapter 3: Touch

_A/N: The usual disclaimers apply, but I'll add one more - I'm really truly serious about that M rating! After much indecision, I decided that this was not so graphic that it would be in violation of the terms of service, but I did have to think about it. (I thought about reading all the other M stories to compare, but I really wanted to be writing instead.) But please consider the fact that I think it borderline to be fair warning - if you don't want to read a pretty detailed sex scene then stop here._

**Chapter Three: Touch**

I'd been sitting on the bed, handcuffs in hand, watching Lupo as she lay curled up and sleeping, for almost an hour, trying to decide if what I was thinking about doing was insanely stupid or just insane. Six weeks ago, I would have known the answer – so unbelievably fucking stupid that I'd deserve to go to federal prison. But today? Well, I wasn't so sure.

She stirred a little and I held my breath. Was she going to wake up? It was decision time, time to call it one way or another.

Hell, I never did like taking the safe choice.

As her eyelashes started to flutter, I gently took one small wrist and clicked the bracelet of the first cuff around it, then lifting her arm, looped the chain of the cuffs around the metal frame of the headboard. Her eyes were starting to open as the movement woke her fully, and much more firmly, I grabbed her other wrist. As she started to pull it away, I forced it up and above her head and into the open second cuff.

_Click._

Done.

Insanely stupid or just insane?

Time to find out.

I grinned at her, as, in seconds, she moved from just barely waking to fully aware and tugging at the cuffs, rolling off her side and onto her back.

"Zane, you idiot! Unlock me," she ordered as she realized what I'd done.

"Name-calling, Lupo? Now that's just mean," I teased. I couldn't help myself. I knew I ought to be a lot more worried about possible consequences - locking someone up against their will is definitely a criminal act - but the adrenaline was surging. Well, and probably the testosterone, too. I mean, talk about a fantasy come true.

She'd pulled the sheet up over her shoulders before she fell asleep, and now I tugged at it lightly, starting to slowly slide it down her body. Just like unwrapping a present at Christmas time.

"Zane!" she protested again, as she tried to clench her elbow to her side and stop the sheet's slow progress. With her hands cuffed over her head, she really had no chance of success, but I stopped pulling at it for a minute, letting her have an illusion of a little control.

"So, Lupo," I said, and yeah, I was probably smirking. Whatever, I couldn't help myself. This might be stupid, but damn, it was fun. "When good girls start to play with bondage, the first thing they need to understand is the concept of a safe word. You know what a safe word is, don't you?"

"I am not playing with bondage!" She glared at me, letting go of the sheet so she could pull at the cuffs again.

"Well, yeah, kind of, ya are," I shrugged, leaning forward and brushing a kiss across her lips as I ran one hand up her taut arm to the cuffs and with the other tugged the sheet firmly off her, shoving it down to the end of the bed, so that she lay there in her glorious, amazing nudity. I closed my eyes, almost in pain. Fuck, she was hot. The perfect combination of curves and muscles with skin that was so smooth, so silky.

"I am not," she snapped, trying to twist and kick at me. "Unlock these cuffs."

"No. And stop tugging at them, you're going to hurt yourself." I was holding her wrist, trying to stop her from putting pressure on the cuff. It would be just like Jo to scrape her skin off trying to free herself.

"No, I'm going to hurt you." She grabbed the bar of the headboard that the cuffs were linked around, and tried to use it as leverage to get her legs up and into a position to kick me.

I laughed. "Could be," I acknowledged. And then I got serious. I rolled on top of her, holding her down with my weight. She tried furiously to push me off but even as strong as she is, it just wasn't possible. One-eighty beats one-ten in that kind of contest any day.

Finally, she stopped trying, panting with exertion, flushed, chest heaving, eyes snapping with fury, and bit out the words, "I am so going to kill you, Zane Donovan."

I sat up, settling my weight securely across her hips, but resting on my heels so that I wasn't completely crushing her. "Done?" I asked. "Before you kill me, you should maybe decide whether you really want to be found like this. Those are your handcuffs, so I don't think you'll be breaking them any time soon."

I didn't really think she could kill me with just her legs, but I figured it was possible. Might as well point out the drawbacks before she broke my neck with a drop-kick to the chin. She just glared at me, but I could tell from the way she compressed her lips together that the point was taken.

"So…" I drew the words out, enjoying myself. "As I was saying, bondage games need safe words, a phrase that you can say to get me to immediately let you go. Your safe word, Jo, is your answer to the question I asked you a couple of hours ago."

For a moment she looked blank and then recognition hit. She blinked and looked away from me.

"All you have to do is give me an answer – either one – and I unlock the cuffs," I went on.

"Fuck you, Donovan."

"Mmm, that was not one of your safe-word options," I answered. And then I smiled. I'd kind of thought that she'd spit out the safe words the minute I gave them to her – but I admit, I was fiercely glad that she hadn't.

"No safe word? That must mean you're ready to play," I murmured, leaning forward, and capturing her mouth with a hard kiss. Lips only, though – I didn't want to lose my tongue to her teeth, and she was still pissed.

I sat back, and looked down at her, grinning. "Where shall I start?" I mused, running one finger down the line of her chin, and along her neck, until I hit the soft hollow made by her clavicle. I paused there and spread my hand out, fingers touching the racing pulse in her neck. "Touch? Or taste?"

I paused. She was still looking away from me. "Or toys?"

Ah, that got her attention.

"You are in so much trouble," she growled, but I'd already felt the jump in her heartbeat. She could say whatever she wanted, but as long as it wasn't her safe words, I was prepared to ignore her voice and just listen to her body.

"Touch, I think. But just to start. We'll get to the toys." I resumed the movement of my hand, but I didn't do the obvious. No, that'd be too easy. And Jo had had an unfair advantage so far: she seemed to know my body and every weakness I had far better than she should have.

Time to level the playing field.

With feather-light touches, I stroked up the taut muscles of her arms, watching her face. Were the inside of her elbows sensitive? How about the spot in the soft skin of her inner wrists? Under her arms, too obvious, but I moved down the sides of her torso, avoiding her breasts for now. Her muscles tightened as I reached her waist. Oh, I bet she was ticklish there. She was trying not to respond, not to feel it, but I could see it in the subtle movements of her body, in the catch of her breath.

I stroked back up, slightly firmer touches, running all the way up her arms to her hands above the cuffs. Damn, I wished those cuffs were padded. I really didn't want her to hurt herself. But she seemed to have stopped pulling against them, whether because she'd realized she couldn't break free or because she was curious, I couldn't say.

When I touched her hands, she made an attempt to capture my fingers, probably hoping to try to break one, but I just laughed, leaning forward and whispering in her ear, "Are you being a bad girl, JoJo?" before nipping her earlobe gently with my teeth, and then rolling off her, so I could continue my explorations down her body.

Again, I skipped over the obvious erogenous zone, just lightly touching her hips and then stroking her legs. I wanted to know where she was sensitive, where she was ticklish, what spots would make her shift and wiggle. She was resisting, trying hard not to respond to my caresses, but I just kept filing my impressions away – the real tests were still to come.

Knees, yes, feet not so much. Even touching under, around, lightly tugging toes – no, she might like a foot massage now and then, but it wasn't turning her on. Back up to her knees, then, and yeah, that was a sweet spot. A muscle jumped in her leg. She had amazingly good facial control, but she couldn't stop her body from responding.

Speaking of which…I trailed my fingers along her inner thigh. I was a long way away from focusing my attention on achievement instead of exploration, but we'd already had sex once tonight, and some sense of how ready she was now would be good to know.

Enough, was the answer. Under other circumstances, I'd be perfectly willing to move the action forward. But not tonight.

A flicker of triumph crossed her face, though, and I could tell she thought she was going to win this game. Maybe she would. I was already hard, with no intention of doing anything about it any time soon. Self-control was gonna be a challenge, and I couldn't keep her locked up forever. Still, it was…well, interesting, that she thought she might win so easily. I wondered a little, before making an internal resolution, and moving on.

Up, up, across her taut stomach, and to the curve of her breast. But, hmm…I dropped my hand back down again and lightly circled her belly button. Yep, that was a sensitive spot. I rested my hand a little lower on her belly and stroked with my thumb, a rhythmic up, down, up, down. A muscle in her jaw tightened, and I smiled to myself and let my hand drift upward.

First one breast, then the other, never touching the nipples, just circling, stroking, waiting, watching. She was doing a great job of pretending to ignore me, but the warm pink buds had pebbled hard and I couldn't resist blowing on the closest one. She couldn't resist closing her eyes, but then they flickered open again and she scowled at me. "You are so dead."

"Mmm, that's a good sign," I murmured and thumbed her right nipple firmly, rubbing it first with the ball of my thumb and then between thumb and forefinger. And then, while I did the same to the left one, I took the right in my mouth, first a gentle kiss, then a tugging pull with firm lips, followed by light nibbling. I swept my tongue around it, tasting her, savoring her, but when I heard her moan, I pulled back.

"I forgot, I'm not working on taste yet, just touch." The words were husky, the heat in my voice obvious even to me. Yeah, my self- control was going to be a problem. I shifted, trying to stop myself from pressing against her. Time to move on.

I stroked my way down her body to her liquid core, teasing my way through the soft dark curls, to the lips and then the bud hidden within them. My eyes were heavy-lidded – I'd fucking love to just close them and bury myself inside her. But that wasn't the game. Instead, I was watching her intently, every muscle twitch, every micro-expression, looking for the pressure that was right, the rhythm that worked. There. That had her biting her lip, that was good. Her breath was becoming a little uneven, and I rubbed a little faster, a little harder, until her head started to fall back and her eyes started to close.

And then I stopped.

I held my hand where it was, but I didn't move it. "It occurs to me…" I said slowly, as if it had just occurred to me, although I'd actually been thinking about this in the back of my head for a while, "…that we have a couple of choices about the game we're playing here. I mean your game is obvious, you're betting you can hold out longer than me." She was starting to come down from the precipice edge on which she'd been hovering and the look she gave me was decidedly disgruntled.

"But I can either play 'how long can I make you wait?'…" I started stroking again, more gently, but in the right place and with the right rhythm, and her breath was almost a gasp as she started to climb again. "…Or 'how many times can I make you come?'" I stopped the second I saw her eyelids start to flutter, and waited. When she opened her eyes and glared at me, I grinned at her. "Any preference?"

She didn't answer, but her hips shifted, pushing up against my hand.

"No?" I whispered, slowly, slowly starting to stroke her again. She pressed her lips together. I could see her trying to hold back the moan. "I'm going to play nice, Jojo. Tonight is how many times." A few firm fast strokes, as I put my mouth on her breast and suckled her hard and with a cry, almost like a cry of pain, she shuddered and convulsed.

A minute later, breathing back to normal, she said, "They teach us how to withstand torture in the army." Her voice was remarkably icy, considering the intense orgasm she'd just had. "You're not going to win this. Unlock the damn cuffs."

"That sounds like a challenge, Josefina." I grinned at her, as I drew one finger along her ticklish waistline until she jolted away from it. "Touch has been fun. Let's see what it's taught me about taste."

_A/N 2: This was remarkably fun to write - I hope it was also fun to read! One last note - as a gift to all the Niall Matter-obsessed (thanks to ashipper2): Go to youtube, search on Secrets of the Summer House Part 6, scroll to 6:47. If you can stand seeing him with someone other than Jo, it's pretty hot! _


	4. Chapter 4: Taste

**Chapter Four: Taste**

Taste was fucking incredible.

Well, and toys were pretty damn good, too. Not that I really had any of the kind that you'd buy in a specialty shop – but a blindfold and an ice cube were working beautifully.

"Zane, damn you," Jo's voice was hoarse. "Are you really going to make me beg?"

"I told you before." I tried to answer in a voice that sounded reasonable, but I was pretty sure I was too breathless to pull it off. "I don't feel right about it when I've locked you up."

"I want you inside me. Now!" She was breathless, too, as she should be. At this point, I'd lost count in the game I was playing, but I was pretty sure she'd hit double digits. Girl biology was a wonderful thing. Maybe not as easy to begin with as a guy's, but amazing with enough attention.

And this had been a lot of attention – I don't know how long I'd experimented with touch and taste before bringing out the blindfold and the ice, but the sun was rising, dawn light already crawling across the floor. Unfortunately, Jo was still being stubborn as hell.

"Not while you're locked up," I repeated. Keeping that resolution was killing me. I was almost tempted to take a quick break in the bathroom and jerk off – any release would be better than none at this point – but I was resisting the temptation. I wanted to play the game fairly.

"You are such an ass," she moaned.

"All you have to do is answer the damn question, babe," I responded, trailing an ice cube down her sleek stomach muscles. I followed the ice cube trail with my tongue, licking up the cold water, tasting Jo's honey-sweet skin. I was sitting across her thighs, holding her down while she writhed beneath me, and I was long past knowing who was torturing who.

She laughed breathily and then moaned, arching up and away from the ice sliding across the delicate skin of her hip. I followed it with my mouth again, as I slid down her legs to give myself access to her center, tracing one hand along the sensitive skin behind her knee as I shifted position.

She whimpered. The hours of exploration had paid off – I now knew her body better than any other except my own – but we were both headed toward overload. One more, then…something else.

I even knew what, I realized, as I put my mouth on her, first nibbling, then tugging, until she shuddered with her release. I rolled off her and collapsed on the bed next to her, breathing hard. Damn, I ached.

"You ready to let me go?" Jo's hips were still shifting, the muscles twitching uncontrollably as she recovered.

"Not a chance." I nipped her ear with my teeth, hard enough to elicit a yelp. "It's Saturday, we've got hours to play still."

She groaned. "Zane, you can't – " she started.

"We'll take a break," I said, putting a possessive hand on her stomach. "You rest a little. I'll be right back."

She protested again, but I pushed myself off the bed and made my way into the bathroom. A quick cold shower – as cold as I could make it – followed by a quick bike ride, and five minutes later I was placing my order at Café Diem, the first customer of the day.

"So who's the lucky lady?" asked Vincent with a smile, as he passed me a bag and a coffee carrier. I didn't answer, just grinned at him, but he was used to that from me and waved me off with a "Well, have fun."

As I made my way home, I wondered what the repercussions would be if Vincent knew who the lady in question was. What would change for me, for us, if our co-workers, our friends, even our enemies—Mansfield came to mind – knew that Jo had spent the night in my bed? Things would change, that was obvious. But for better or for worse?

Well, if Mansfield knew that I'd locked Jo to my bed, definitely for worse. He'd toss me in prison and throw away the key. But although Jo had threatened to kill me more than once during the night, she'd never even hinted at jail, more proof – as if I'd needed any – of how things had changed.

To my relief, she was still in my bed. I'd put the handcuff key in the pocket of my jeans before leaving, but I knew that if Jo really wanted out, she'd find a way. While I didn't think she could break the cuffs, I wouldn't have put it past her to dismantle the bedframe getting free. And God, just looking at her, blindfolded, naked, her dark hair loose around her, sweat dampened at the brows…eh, suddenly the denim of my jeans was uncomfortably constricting, and that cold shower was too damn long ago.

I crossed the room to her and set the bag and the coffee on the bedside table, taking the lid off the coffee cup, and a cinnamon roll and the extra icing out of the bag. Then I kicked off my shoes and without taking anything else off, I straddled her again, keeping my weight mostly on my knees. She gave a small grunt of protest, and then took a deep breath. "Is that coffee?" she asked.

I chuckled. Leaning forward, I untied the blindfold and removed it, then grabbed the cinnamon roll from the bedside table. She blinked at me.

"Coffee," I answered, "…and cinnamon rolls." I broke off a small piece of the cinnamon roll and held it to her lips. She opened her mouth automatically, then chewed and swallowed, her dark eyes intent on my face. I couldn't read her expression, but I broke off another piece. This time, when I put it in her mouth, I also stroked my thumb along her lip, and then I could read her expression, as the heat flared in her eyes and she pulled away with a tiny gasp.

I put the cinnamon roll back down and picked up the coffee. Lifting it to my lips, I took a sip, watching her intently. The look of pain that crossed her face was definitely about the coffee, and yeah, I was grinning behind the cup. I'd left the Vinspresso made the way she liked it in the kitchen – Vincent's special insulated cups would keep it warm for a solid hour and it was going to be my heavy-duty artillery. After the extra icing.

I took another swallow of the hot drink, letting the aroma waft into the air, and then put it back down on the table, and picked up the tub of icing. Her eyes followed every move, but lingered on the coffee cup. "Also, extra icing," I said. "But that's not for the cinnamon rolls, JoJo." I pulled the top off, stuck a finger in, licked it. Mmm, sugar. "It's for you."

"Oh, my God," Jo closed her eyes. "Zane, you're insane!" It was a protest, but there was a laugh behind it, too.

I took a dab of the icing and trailed it along her breast, then leaning down, licked it off. She whimpered and arched. Yeah, half an hour had let her cool down, but she was so sensitized at this point that it would take almost nothing to get her going again. The question was, how much longer could I stand it? I was rock-hard inside my jeans already.

I sat up again and reached for the coffee and took another sip. "Or you can answer my question," I suggested.

She closed her eyes and turned her head away.

"I'll let you taste my coffee if you do," I put the coffee down again, and bent my head to hers, taking her lips in a gentle, exploratory kiss, the kind where your lips play and your tongue traces but doesn't penetrate. She opened her mouth to me immediately, and kissed me back, much harder, her tongue trying to take control, searching my mouth. For a minute or longer, we kissed, just kissed, until I had to pull away or explode. It seems crazy that a kiss was going to be the thing that finally pushed me over the edge, but something about it…

"Answer my question, Jo," I whispered, breathless, my heart racing, my head buried in her neck. "Are you having sex or making love?"

"Damn you, damn you, damn you," her voice was a whisper, too, the sound husky. "Making love!" The final words were sharp, almost angry.

I pulled back, startled. I hadn't expected her to answer, not then, maybe not ever. I'd honestly begun thinking that I was going to lose this game.

For a second, maybe two, maybe three, I just looked at her, and then I said, "Me, too, Josefina," as I slid my hand in my pocket to find the key. "Me, too."

It was her move now. What would it be?

With a click the cuffs opened, but I let her take control of pulling them down and off. I was just looking at her, I couldn't stop, but then I realized that I was still straddling her, and hastily shifted off. "There's a Vinspresso in the kitchen for you," I offered as she rubbed her wrists and sat up.

"Ha." It was a breath, almost a laugh. Picking up my coffee, Jo took a giant gulp. "That's for later." Turning back to me, she looked me up and down and frowned.

"Clothes off," she ordered. I raised my eyebrows quizzically.

She dangled the handcuffs in front of me. "It's my turn," she said. "And I could rip your clothes off after I cuff you, but that t-shirt's one of your favorites. So…clothes off."

_A/N: I have seriously amused myself with this story. I hope I've done the same for you! Huge thank yous to all who've reviewed. I was pretty nervous about this one - my first ever real sex scene, and I would definitely have felt too anxious about it to post Chs 3 and 4 without the encouragement on 2 & 3! _


	5. Chapter 5: Secrets

**Chapter Five: Secrets**

The incredible Jo Lupo had a secret.

And man, I was really bummed that she wasn't sharing it with me.

No, not that secret. I'd figured that one out. And you know, while I'd still love to know more about the physics of what they did, the fact that Jo didn't want to talk about that previous life was fine by me.

I'd felt something after the first time we'd been together that I didn't even want to admit to myself – a kind of a sick envy of a guy that I'd never met. Even though I thought then that the one time with her was just a brief brush with a dangerous narcotic, I still hated the guy whose place I'd been taking. And since he was me, I couldn't even ruin his credit rating or plant a virus on his computer or spoof his email address and use it to send porn to his boss. Yeah, no, I didn't need to know anything more about that life.

No, this was a different secret.

I don't know how I'd figured it out. A change in the way she tasted, maybe? Or smelled? Had her soft natural perfume become a little sweeter? That sounds weird, but there was something, some subtle difference that I couldn't quite put my finger on, that had first given it away to me.

But it wasn't because she told me.

And that…well, it sucked.

I'd always been so careful. It figures that the one time I wasn't…well, it was just ironic.

For obvious reasons, I couldn't say anything to her about it. "By the way, I see you missed your period?" Or "So, have you noticed that your breasts are tender? Think that might have anything to do with that first night when we didn't exactly bother with birth control?" Yeah. Not.

Our relationship – if you could call it that – was still mostly a secret. Oh, there were people who knew. Carter, definitely. I could tell from the worried way he looked at me. Probably Alison, maybe Fargo. Vincent was suspicious, but despite being the biggest gossip in Eureka, Vincent could keep his mouth closed when he thought he should.

The fact that he thought he should keep quiet about Jo and me? Well, that kind of sucked, too.

She'd let me take her on a date – a real date, the kind where I actually worried about what to wear. We'd gone to the movies a couple of times, and even played laser tag one fun weekend afternoon. And she'd eaten with me in Café Diem more than once. But she still didn't want me to touch in her public, and this was still mostly a relationship of late night booty calls. We were something a little more than friends with benefits, a little less than lovers.

Yeah, I find it tough to believe I'm complaining about that. Wasn't this every guy's dream? Amazing sex, totally casual?

I shouldn't even be complaining about her silence. I don't like messy. I don't like complicated. Jo was keeping things simple. When she didn't tell me, I figured she was going to take care of it quietly, on her own. I should have appreciated that.

I didn't.

It sucked.

It really, truly sucked.

Yeah, I got all the reasons why having it wasn't maybe the best idea and it was her body and all that, but I would have wanted to be there for her, even if it was just to hold her hand. And I just really didn't like the fact that she didn't want me there, that she wasn't going to share this with me.

I'm usually pretty good at shoving personal stuff out of my mind. And relationship conversations? Yeah, I don't do those. But this thing? I was puzzling about it day and night. Because Jo didn't do anything, and with every passing day, it got more unlikely that she would or could, and so – what was she going to do? I mean, at some point, it was going to be so obvious that she'd have to admit it. So was she not telling me because she was worried about how I'd react? Did she think I'd pressure her into doing something she didn't want to do? That sucked, too.

Eh, but sometimes the super-genius thing just means missing the obvious. Turns out this was one of those times.

She'd had it pretty easy – none of that major puking you hear about or deadly exhaustion. And, you know, I'd had plenty of time to think about it. I wasn't going to push Jo into anything, but I'd started to get pretty clear on what I wanted, at least in my head.

But still, I was distracted. I mean this was a big deal. A really, really big deal. So I made a stupid mistake. A work stupid mistake. Honestly, it wasn't much of an explosion, really, not by GD standards. But when the liquid nitrogen vented into the neighboring lab, things got a little ugly.*

The nitrogen should have just boiled off into the GD ventilation system, no big deal. The air we breathe is more nitrogen than any other gas anyway. But the damage to my lab had released it into the sealed lab next door where it collected. Too much nitrogen means not enough oxygen – and nitrogen asphyxiation is impossible to detect. Because your body is still exhaling carbon dioxide, it doesn't feel like you're suffocating, but you are and nitrogen asphyxiation can be deadly.**

Jo went into the lab to check for damage while I was in the hallway arguing with Fargo about whether liquid nitrogen was really going to work for my project. I saw her pause, and then crumble to the floor, and almost immediately realized what must have happened. Fortunately, the door to the lab was open so the nitrogen was slowly dispersing.

I scooped her up, rushing to the infirmary. Fuck, oxygen deprivation? I had no idea what effect that would have on fetal development. She was conscious and annoyed by the time we got there. "Zane, I'm fine," she snapped at me, pushing to get loose.

I ignored her. "Alison, we need you," I said as soon as I saw Dr. Blake. She looked up, startled, but quickly followed me to the nearest open bed.

"I'm fine," Jo snapped again, as I put her down. "Your stupid experiment just messed with my head."

"She passed out from nitrogen asphyxiation," I explained to Alison. "Can you check her out?"

"Nitrogen?" Alison reached for Jo's hands and examined them, turning them over in her own, looking at both front and back. "How long was she out?" She pulled out a penlight and indicated to Jo that she should open her mouth.

"She was in the room for maybe a minute before she passed out and then she was unconscious for less than a minute." I reported as Alison checked the inside of Jo's mouth, focusing the light on her lips and tongue.

"How do you feel?" Alison asked Jo, as she clicked off the light and tucked it back into her pocket. "Any headache, dizziness, nausea?"

Jo shook her head. "I'm okay, really."

"I think you probably are," Alison agreed. "There's no sign of cyanosis." She smiled at Jo with that friendly doctorly warmth she had, but I frowned. Alison obviously didn't know or she'd be taking this more seriously. Wasn't Jo going to say something? Did she not realize that a lack of oxygen could have done damage?

"Terrific, then I can get back to work," Jo made as if to hop off the bed

"Uh, no," I said firmly, and put a hand on her to stop her. I gave her what I hoped was a meaningful look. She just raised her eyebrows, and Alison glanced between us.

I looked at Alison pointedly and then back at Jo, trying to convey the message that she had to tell Alison. I felt stupid but what the hell? If she still didn't want me to know, she should ask me to leave and then talk to Alison. But just pretending like this? Not cool.

"What?" Jo said, looking pissed. "Your screw-up has cost me half the day and I have work to do."

I glared at her, annoyed. This was really not okay. Alison was looking confused. Fine, if Jo wasn't going to say anything, I would.

"Can you check the baby, too, please?" I said to Alison, trying to be polite despite feeling seriously aggravated. "I don't know whether a scan would show damage, but oxygen deprivation can't be good for fetal development."

Alison's eyes widened and she quickly glanced at Jo.

Jo was staring at me, her eyes wide, too.

"What? I'm not stupid," I said irritably. "If you didn't want the baby, you should have done something about it. Taking chances with it at this stage is just irresponsible."

"I…" Jo blinked. Once, twice. Then she looked away and closed her eyes. Her lips moved, as if she was counting silently, or maybe praying. "Maybe I'm the one who's stupid."

She looked at Alison, who was looking like she maybe wanted to smile but was trying to hold it back. Alison raised her eyebrows at Jo in a silent question, putting a supportive hand on Jo's upper arm, and Jo shrugged. "Maybe, yeah. I'm never very regular and I don't even remember the last time I got my period."

Understanding was starting to hit me.

Holy fuck.

Jo hadn't known? Could I be wrong? Nah, I wasn't worried about that, but…well. This changed things.

"Well, let's start with a blood test," Alison was beginning to bustle around, taking care of the mechanics of the testing. Jo was just looking at me, her expression almost lost, and I stepped closer to the bed, until I was right next to her, close enough that I could feel her warmth.

Shit, shit. What to say? I'd had enough time to think about this that I'd figured out exactly how I'd respond when Jo told me – but things were not going according to plan.

_*Turns out, I found it impossible to write a Eureka story that didn't include an explosion. And no, orgasms don't count. So, yeah, here's the explosion. _

_**True science, although the practicalities of how the nitrogen could have filled the room sufficiently to knock Jo out is rather more Eureka science._

_A/N: I promised at least a couple of people who wrote reviews that I was going to return to being hopelessly romantic in the fifth and final chapter of this story. (I'm not sure I ever really left hopelessly romantic, actually). Zane's line was going to be over-the-top romantic, the exactly right thing for a guy to say when his girlfriend tells him she's pregnant. But this is Eureka, and plans never seem to work out quite right! So there'll be at least one more chapter..._


	6. Chapter 6: Decisions

_A/N: You get this chapter courtesy of ZeroGain, who first broke my writer's block and then beta'd the really bad first draft. You should all tell him thank you, because it's a much, much better chapter because of his help. Thanks, ZeroGain!_

**Chapter Six: Decisions**

I felt sick to my stomach.

I ought to be happy. My basic premise had been totally flawed. Jo hadn't made any decisions. She didn't even know.

Instead, I kind of wanted to puke. She looked a little like she did, too – her face pale and maybe a little sweaty, her eyes dark. She glanced at me and then glanced away, and it felt a little like she'd just punched me in the stomach, like when you take a hit and can't quite breathe for a second.

This changed everything.

My brain was scrambling, trying to figure things out. See, I'd had a long time to think about this. I'd known, or at least suspected, for weeks. I'd been working on what to say when she finally told me for days.

No immediate marriage proposal – a baby is a terrible reason to get married. Nothing about supporting her in whatever she decided – too much like a soap opera. I might have asked her how she felt about it – that was probably safe. But it was also kind of neutral, and that wasn't what I wanted. Not anymore. Maybe it would have been at first, but once I'd gotten used to the idea, well, I didn't hate it.

I can't believe I'm saying that.

But I'd thought it was a done deal. I'd moved through all these different feelings about it – frustrated and annoyed that Jo wasn't telling me, worried about what she was thinking, even, I admit it, some fear about the future. I'm not afraid of much, but babies are a big responsibility. And then they turn into kids and kids are great – as long as they go home with other people.

And if I had a kid like me? Yeah, what a pain in the ass that would be.

But then I'd started picturing it as a little girl like Jo. Cute and tough and bossy and over-sensitive. And now…well, fuck.

Yeah, I'd already wrapped my head around the idea that we were having a baby. It wasn't just a clump of cells to me anymore. It's not like I'd picked out names or anything, but a decision that would have felt abstract and… well, just medical… a few weeks ago, now felt much more personal.

And I knew the right thing to say, I thought, but only if Jo wanted the baby. If she didn't want it? Damn, I wished I'd kept my mouth shut. Except that I was still worried about the baby. All of this could be a moot point if the oxygen deprivation had been enough to harm it.

"I'm really sorry," I blurted out, as Alison was drawing blood from Jo's arm. A flicker of pain crossed Jo's face, but she wasn't looking at me.

Alison, though, gave me a swift kick in the shin. No, I'm not kidding. It hurt. I looked at her, startled, and she gave me a disgusted look and rolled her eyes.

I grimaced as I realized what I'd said. "I don't mean about – I meant about the nitrogen. I'm sorry about the explosion and that…" I kind of faltered to a stop. If she didn't want the baby, then maybe she wouldn't care if there was a problem.

"It shouldn't have any effect on the fetus," Alison assured us. "If Jo's exposure was short enough that she was asymptomatic after a minute, then the pregnancy – if there is one – ought to be fine. I'll go run the test." She stepped away.

Jo had been sitting on the end of the bed while Alison drew blood, and I'd been standing next to her, but when Alison left, I moved so that I was right in front of her. Jo was biting her lip and still not looking at me, so I leaned down, putting my hands on either side of her, effectively blocking her in and said, "Come on, JoJo, look at me. Tell me what you're thinking."

Her eyes met mine and there was definitely accusation in them. "How long have you thought I was pregnant?"

Uh-oh. Should I lie? I swallowed hard and admitted the truth. "Since the day we played laser tag."

Her mouth fell open. "That was a month ago!"

"Um, yeah."

"Is that why you've been being so damn weird?" She punched me in the shoulder and when Jo punches, it hurts. I winced. Between Alison and Jo, I was going to have bruises.

"I'm not the one who's been weird," I protested. And then I paused and thought about it. Actually… "Okay, yeah, maybe. But I thought you knew. It didn't occur to me that you could be that–"

You know how sometimes you know the minute too late that you've said something that you'll regret? This time I caught myself right before the last word slipped out. No, I was not going to call Jo stupid or oblivious or any other adjective that would make her that much more pissed at me. "—that you could not notice," I finished lamely.

"That I could be that stupid, you mean?" she asked dangerously. Damn, but I did not like it when she read my mind.

I took a step back and put my hands up defensively. "Maybe I'm wrong."

She shook her head. "I couldn't zip up my pants this morning," she admitted. "I just thought – I don't know what I thought. I guess I didn't think." She put her hand on her belly, spreading out the fingers in that way that pregnant women do, as if they're reassuring the baby inside, but her eyes, when she looked at me, were dark and worried, and her words were hesitant. "Zane, I –"

She looked away again and sighed.

I stepped hastily back to her and put my finger across her lips. "Wait, wait, don't say anything yet. I know that this probably isn't what you had planned, but-" My words broke off and I swallowed hard. That sick feeling in my stomach was back, more intense than ever.

How could I say that I really wanted her to have the baby? She didn't even want people to know we were together. What would she say to them when she started to show? Yeah, the town fuck-up knocked me up? That was going to go over well with Mansfield.

"I know it's your decision and your body and I respect that. I'm not trying to tell you what you should do. You need to do what's right for you. But I thought you knew and…well, I'd kind of gotten used to the idea. And if you can just consider all the options before making up your mind-"

I don't know what I was saying but something about it was right, because the slightest smile was starting to turn up Jo's lips. My finger was still pressed against her lips, silencing her, but she opened her mouth, and bit it. Not gently.

"Ow," I pulled it back, shaking my hand. "What was that for?"

"I'm Catholic, you idiot," she said, but her tone was softer than the words.

"You believe that stuff?" Yeah, I was surprised.

Jo rolled her eyes. "Right. Because only dumb people believe in something beyond tachyons and particle accelerators. We are not having this conversation for the tenth time."

We'd never had this conversation for the first time. I kind of vaguely knew that Jo went to church but Eureka was so small that there wasn't a Catholic church, and Jo usually went to the Episcopalian church with Reverend Harper. Me, I thought it was bullshit. I'd rather sleep in.

Alison had returned, and now she said, gently, "This Zane, Jo?"

"Ah, right," Jo smiled wryly. "It's a baby, not a decision, Zane, and if I'm pregnant –" She looked at Alison, and Alison nodded, smiling. "Yeah, so…" Jo shrugged, looking a little tentative again. "We're having a baby."

The wave of relief that washed through me was like the rush you get from riding a motorcycle too fast down a curving highway – pure joy mingled with just the slightest bit of sheer terror. I grinned at her. "Does this mean I can kiss you in public now?"

Her exhale of breath was almost a laugh, as she shook her head in disbelief, and said, "Sure."

I reached for her and it was like the first time – the first time that wasn't a first time because there'd never been a time when kissing Jo wasn't like coming home, like falling into a dream, like being in a place where the universe was just right, and when I finally had to come up for air, I cupped her face in my hands and said to her softly, "You're going to be an incredible mother, Josefina."

_A/N 2: I hope I have delivered on the promise of hopelessly romantic! Thanks for reading, and especially thanks for reviewing. You make it worthwhile!_


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